Miss Havisham - 1929

Recovered from: North field, 1929 The woman came from Atlanta in the last, desperate days of October 1929, when the newspapers were screaming about fortunes vanishing overnight. Folks remember her stepping off the coach in a dark traveling dress, clutching a leather case and looking like she’d run clear out of breath. She told the hotel clerk she wanted the quiet of the farm, to rest her mind from all the shouting and panic surrounding the Wall Street Crash…but word got around quick that she’d also heard about the Raybury Patch. The farm was said to grant favors — though nobody would name the price. One moonless night, she walked out past the last fencepost and into the tangle of vines. She never came back. In the morning, dew lay heavy as tears, and in the middle of the field sat a doll no one had ever seen before - a cracked-faced figure clutching a single penny. They called her Miss Havisham, and some say if you stand in the patch at dawn, you can still hear the faint rustle of a dress in the vines.